


A Marriage Most Inconvenient

by Shadow_Light13



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Cussing, Dark Past, Developing Friendships, Difficult Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-09-27 22:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Light13/pseuds/Shadow_Light13
Summary: There were many things Pitch had become prepared for over the years he had spent existing - it was part of being a much-hated spirit of Fear - but being shoved into a sack, tossed through a magical portal and being forced to marry a human far too young and too... human... for him, wasn't one of those things.Might get very dark, very fast. In the event that it does, the rating will be raised.Mostly focuses on Pitch and his "relationship".





	1. Disrupted

That morning had been the first free morning that Pitch had in some five hundred or so years. 

Finally, despite the sun rising up to the meet the cloudy heavens, he could step foot outside with his strength regained completely and with no one to force him back under the bed and into the shadows of his cavernous lair. After much push and pull with the nightmares and a very welcomed - as much as he hated to admit it - rescue by his most faithful companions, Onyx and Eclipse, he could finally breathe. No longer was he being trampled and beaten and bitten by those other wild, ungrateful beasts. 

It was not even as though he planned to go very far, or cause any chaos - oh, he planned on being on his best behaviour right up until the point when the Guardians finally forgot about him again - but rather he had settled down beside a deciduous tree, leaning against its rough bark and soaking in the sun rays. Contrary to common belief, Pitch, unlike vampires did not burn in the sun, and though it was not like he could get a tan and he would more likely get sunburned, it did not affect him quite as much as his opponents would have liked. Granted, his abilities weakened considerably, but he could still walk, talk and defend himself using the more traditional methods, thank you very much! (That being kicking someone between the legs, backhanding them, or applying a little force to one of the pressure points on the body. It _had _been a while since he had last fought without his fancy shadow and sand powers.)

Taking a good long time to breathe in the fresh air, inhaling the scent of the flowers, freshly cut grass and leaves, he closed his eyes, relaxing and for once at peace with the Earth. 

Yet, it was not to last. 

Like a lightning bolt, chaos crashed into his life once more, bright and fast, in the form of a very familiar, red sleigh, at the front of which were several flying, furry menaces - that on any other occasion he might have considered adorable, had they not belonged to that overgrown oaf - were, preparing to land in front of no one else but him. Standing up on his legs, and visibly shaking despite the fact that he tried to hide his fear, he darted behind the tree, watching carefully, his hands against the trunk as he listened and waited. With a few loud thuds the sleigh finally landed and no sooner did it do so, arguments began to form. 

"I told you, he never should have gotten than sleigh license, North!" a very annoying Australian rodent exclaimed, with a huff as he hoped out of the sleigh, narrowing his eyes and looking around. Then in a lower voice he added, "and I don't get why Manny would ever consider involving the shady bastard in any of his plans..."

"Oh, come on - I'm thinking I did pretty well for my seventh time flying that thing," a cocky voice protested. 

_"Seventh?!" _Aster looked like he was about to have a heart attack, which to be fair, the boogeyman was fully supportive of, but he would rather not see the rodent fall beside his own lair. He was about to snicker at that too, when it dawned on him that by 'shady bastard' the blasted rabbit had probably meant him. 

The raven haired male tensed, anticipating something terribly had been planned. It would only be his luck for him to be right at the wrong moment. 

Suddenly, something grabbed him harshly by the shoulder and torso and he found himself being pulled backwards by some ruffian- 

"Would you stop manhandling me, you bloody-?!" 

"Found him," Frost's cocky voice proclaimed as if this were a game he had won. Scowling in frustration and gritting his teeth, Pitch turned around, about to give him a harsh kicking and possibly scratch one or both of the spirit's ice-blue eyes out, when his eyes landed on the taller figure of North that stood right behind the white haired boy. 

The anger soon left him as he was met with the judging - and they had always been judgemental - gaze of the Guardian of Wonder. 

Gulping, he attempted to squirm out of the shepherd's crook that was holding him in place, but for one reason or another, the scrawny little shit seemed to have gained quite a bit of physical strength... or perhaps his skinniness was simply an illusion he had fallen for. Either way, he refused to believe he was weak and fought on. 

"Oh, you're not going anywhere, Shady," Jack said, in an almost teasing voice, "you're coming with us, buddy." 

"Frost! I am not your-!" 

Before he could finish his protest though, a pair of thick arms grabbed him, before tossing him into a sack of sorts, for it was completely dark inside to the point where even Pitch himself could not see. He tried to get out of there, but they shut it, tying the sack up. 

Panic welled up inside Pitch as he teared at the sack, desperate to get out, growing breathless in his struggle. "Let me out- damn you!" he wheezed out, his breathing growing shallower by the moment, right until he was thrown onto a hard, wooden surface. He winced in pain, before feeling the sack getting dragged across the floor and resuming his struggling. In his panic, he grew oblivious to the fact that he could have used the shadows to his advantage, which the Guardians had probably ignored because they underestimated his ability to "bounce back". Whatever the Lunanoff brat had planned for him, he did not want to be a part of it. 

Finally, someone had bothered to treat him at least somewhat humanely, as the sack was opened, allowing him to breathe. Not that spirits necessarily needed oxygen, but they instinctively felt as though they did, and to cut them off from oxygen could still result in them fainting because of an intense belief that they would causing them to panic. Even a four-point-five-o-three-billion-year-old spirit of Fear could very much fall unconscious that way. 

Gasping for breath and shaking with rage, as his peace had been disturbed and freedom taken away, he glared daggers at the Guardians that now surrounded him - the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman now included into the picture. In fact, it had probably been Toothiana that, for whatever reason, had untied him. 

"Sorry about that..." Toothiana apologised, sheepishly. He gawked at her. 

What the fuck was she playing at?! She was one of them! 

"It was just that you would have probably not come with us willingly..." she began explaining, but by that time, Pitch had gotten his breath back. 

"Damn right I wouldn't have!" he hissed at her as he stood up. "After everything that has happened, _you _want to drag _me _back to this place?" He gestured to the surrounding walls that had made up The Pole. 

Wincing, the fairy flew back a foot or so, causing Sanderson to glower at him, about to take his sand whips out when North stopped him. "Not now, Sandy. Only if it is necessary," the Cossack placated the feisty golden ball of sand. He made his way up to Pitch, taking his time long enough to unnerve the taller - but much lankier - male. "Now to business..." Pitch took a few steps back, swallowing again. 

"Which one of us would you rather was your best man?" Jack Frost cut in, turning the very long version of the story into a much shorter one. 


	2. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is given a choice. 
> 
> Engagement? Or imprisonment? 
> 
> Well... a choice. Between two evils, which one do you choose?

Pitch blinked owlishly, wondering if this was simply a part of one of Frost's pranks. He wouldn't put it past the winter menace to pull of something like that. 

"Good one, Frost. I am not and never will be getting married," he retorted. "And even if I were, I would never invite the five of you to my wedding." It was absurd to think that he would have considered bringing them into any relationship he had, even if it were a completely imaginary one. "Now, if you are done with your pranks, I suggest you let me go back to my life, otherwise..."

Another person stepped into the scene now. Shorter than Jack, but taller than Sanderson, a bald man walked up to Pitch. "Otherwise what?" he asked in a faint Russian accent. "What can you, the defeated spirit of Fear threaten my Guardians or myself with?" Tsar Lunanoff inquired, trailing his cold grey gaze over Pitch. He gestured for North to restrain the spirit as the boogeyman tried to back away from the Man in the Moon, watching the male kick and squirm once more as he stubbornly refused to listen. 

"You forget, my precious spirit," he whispered to Pitch, once he got close enough for only the raven haired male to hear - partly because the others were at a distance from them and partly because North was at times a little hard of hearing in his age - "that you no longer possess the power to fight me, or defy me as you did once." 

Pinning his golden-silver gaze at Manny intently, his opponent watched with caution. This was one of the Lunanoffs, after all. Rage and fear boiled within him, but he found himself silenced when the shorter male reached out a hand to his face, cupping the right side of it and smirking up at him. There was no person in the world that was less afraid of Pitch than Manny was. Why would he be, too? Even from the moon, he could always find a way to subdue the spirit and get him to do as he wished. As a shudder past through Pitch, he attempted to kick his nemesis as his arms were held back by the Cossack behind him. Not today. He wouldn't submit again. 

The Guardians watched transfixed, but Pitch could clearly see they had no idea what was going on. They seemed confused, but frankly unconcerned about their master's behaviour. 

"You were always a stubborn one, weren't you...?" Manny commented, moving away from the first kick and stopping his leg with a second foot. "Pity you did not come out right. Had you been Courage, Knowledge or something good, perhaps the two of us would not be fighting today..."

"You mean, perhaps I wouldn't be blindly following your orders like a puppet!" the nightmare king spat, attempting to elbow North, or use the other leg to kick the man in front of him in vain. 

"Nicholas?" Smiling coldly, Manny looked up to North, his eyes focusing on his, a silent order find its way to his servant. "Show my old friend over here some good old fashioned respect, would you?" The smile grew when Pitch found himself being thrown over North's shoulder as if he weighed little more than a rag doll. He might have tried to kick and hit the Cossack, but it was all in vain. 

* * *

When North returned, still lugging Pitch over his shoulder, the dark haired male had been stuffed in a suit, as opposed to a robe, complete with a white shirt, black vest, black trousers and what looked more like dancing shoes than his usual choice of riding boots. Fortunately for the Tsar, he no longer fought, but he did carry the expression of disgust and hatred clearly on his face. As he was put down, there seemed to be a moment where he expressed pain, but it was a fleeting one, as the expression vanished moments later and he put on a face of neutrality. 

"Good, now can we continue?" Manny resumed, nonchalantly, as if he had no idea of how the lanky spirit felt about this, before he turned to Jack. "You can tell the brides-to-be to come in, Frost," he remarked, before ushering him out. Then he turned back to face the man he had previously been speaking to. 

In the time that he did so, the winter sprite walked out of the room calmly, choosing it over flying. It was obvious that he did not have the option of refusing his master's word. 

"You see... we've been having a few population issue, lately, my friend," Manfred began explaining as he paced around the one spirit he had little to no control over in this whole building. "And there are plenty of spirits out there daring to challenge my rule. Plenty of spirits out there who dare tip the balance. Some go as far as murder. Rape. Violence. Torture. Blackmail."

"Your point being?" Pitch hissed out, impatient and desiring nothing more than to be out of here, away from the toxic influence of his former Tsar's spoilt son. 

"We need more spirits, more Guardians to protect the world, but that cannot be done easily. I can only make so many of them every few decades, and we may not have that long..." 

The boogeyman tensed anticipating the absolute worse, and being proven right in believing that the worst was yet to come. As if anything that had occurred before this speech wasn't bad enough. If it weren't for the fact that the oaf was still behind him, he would have probably ran off to get the reindeer. It was not like he could teleport under the light. And after North's... lesson... he highly doubted he had any access to his powers. 

A reminder of that was around Pitch's right leg, in the form of a metal anklet. It itched and, being only recently put on him, it natural stung. Nothing knew. It wasn't like it was his first time dealing with magical binds. 

"A supernatural child - a child that is at least partly inhuman, with either parent being a spirit - could be a much faster way of increasing the numbers. You've had a child, Jack is young, Aster is a Pooka, and Toothiana might still be able to have children... which makes the four of you the best candidates for the role of the supernatural parent. If you marry, your wife or husband becomes immortal, which gives them the advantage. My Guardians are willing to sacrifice a little happiness for the greater good. And you? Well, let us say that unless you cooperate in one way or another... you might find yourself being unable to use your abilities for a good while yet. All of eternity, perhaps."

So, that was his deal...

"Bastard..." Pitch growled lowly.

"Would you rather the world suffered because of your choice not to cooperate?"

What, the world that made _him _suffer? He was supposed to protect a bunch of ungrateful, entitled brats that never once thought to appreciate the fact that he world he arse off finding ways to spread aloofness and acknowledgement of everything dark and dangerous about the world?! 

"Let them suffer." 

Clearly, Manny was not pleased with this response. "Very well. Then I suppose you are willing to join me on the moon, for a good long while too? It's so very lonely up there after all..." Something disturbing crossed his steel-coloured eyes and the shorter man lowered his voice threateningly. "Besides, you and I have much to discuss regarding your assassination of the former Tsar and Tsarina..."

Pitch's eyes widened a little at those words, knowing that his treatment on the moon would not be any more pleasant. "_That _happened billions of years ago... and I have more than paid for my actions," he excused himself, trying to keep his cool. Instead, he was shaking on the inside, and despite not showing any signs of it, it felt like he had been hit by a train, as he recalled every bit of the murder. That, and everything that happened before that day. How much he had _despised _the dead ruler long before he had turned into the spirit he was now. Long before he became Pitch. Now here was his son. The child of his enemy. 

"My Guardians would not think so, and neither would I," Manny insisted. "If you so wish to be spared a simple thing as a marriage, then you will pay for taking my father's life, but doing as my father would have wanted you to do before his death..."

No.

No! 

He would not be told what to do. And certainly not that. What would the Lunanoff heir know about any of what Demyan would have wanted? 

Nevertheless, he wanted nothing to do with the desires of Manny's father. 

"You will take off those magical binds..." Pitch growled, trying to block out his past. 

Manny smirked. "So, what will your choice be?" He ignored the boogeyman's attempt to bargain. 

"If you take off the magical binds off me..." the boogeyman sighed, realising that if the other man wanted to, he could easily drag him off to whatever prison he had built on the moon regardless of whether he cooperated or not, "I will... give..." he struggled to force it out of his system, "that child... to you." 

It tasted vile on his tongue, those words. The arrangement would have turned him into little more than a breeding stud. Still, it would only be a couple times, right? Humans had this thing called a divorce, still, right? He closed his eyes hoping that once he opened them, perhaps it would already be over. 

It was almost as if the Tsar was dissatisfied with the response he gave, for he only nodded, before gesturing for the humans to walk into the room. Jack led out a few females and males. "Go on," he encouraged the humans. "The spirit you choose you will be married to within a month's time, so choose carefully." 

Manny must have ordered North once more using his own mind-related abilities, for the male pinched Pitch harshly, forcing him to open his eyes. 

Narrowing his eyes at the shockingly young candidates, he didn't exactly encourage them to walk over to him. He breathed out in relief when some of the youngest looking ones thankfully walked over to Toothiana - including a boy that looked like he had just hit adulthood yesterday, who eventually chose to stay beside the female and another person who chose to stay by Toothiana as well, a girl with chocolate brown skin that looked like a collage freshmen, given the white shirt and pencil skirt. Unfortunately, it looked like his attitude might just result in him being forced to put up with Manny after all, when the two oldest members of the group had chosen Bunny and Jack. 

Briefly he tried to force a more pleasant expression, thinking to the flaws of Manny's plan. How did he plan on ensuring a male would conceive, or that a pairing made up of females could result in a child? Sure, there was probably a simple explanation, but he didn't need an answer. He needed a distraction. 

A loud cough distracted him from his thoughts and he realised that he had been out of it for quite some time. 

"Dear husband, you could at least pay attention to your wife to be when she is speaking to you," a feminine voice said, though not very enthusiastically. Looking down at the much shorter form of the human whom had chosen him, he tensed. 

He was so fucking screwed. 

"I'm not exactly over the moon with this arrangement either, but unless you would like to be rejected by the one person who actually considered you as a potential partner, only to then live with the shame... the least you could do is look less like you're about to get executed," the short female narrowed her green-blue eyes at him. 

"So, it is settled then," Manny announced, calling the attention back to him. He seemed to have relinquished his control over the Guardians, for they seemed rather shocked when they saw their partners. There were a few left over males and females, standing in the centre of the room, but they did not seem to be interested in any of the spirits. "I am glad to see Cupid's idea worked..."

_Yes. _Worked. If by worked, you meant that it lead to Pitch getting paired with a bloody child bride. Whatever potions or charms Manny had used to help pair them, it might have now lost it's main effect - as he could see some of them blink owlishly, confused - , but the after-effects were likely going to be something else. Gritting his teeth as he watched the male talk on, his words fading out, becoming incomprehensible as only one thought lay inside his mind. 

'What the fuck did I get into?'

It was clear that the girl who had walked up to him - looking like she still belonged in high school - was thinking much the same thing as she seemed to tense up, her confidence lost, as was the blue-green fire in her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Pitch's past is dark and complex, I did not want to force all the information into one chapter. Hopefully I have successfully managed to drip feed just enough information to get you interested but not confused, and not enough for you to know all there is to know about his past with the Tsar.
> 
> I chose to call Manny's father Demyan Kyr Lunanoff, inspired by some other piece of fanfiction. 
> 
> The people who chose each spirit have been deemed by whatever magic Cupid crafted - and there is a Cupid in this story but for now she is not a Guardian or paired with anyone - to be compatible. The magic is probably what made the female character Pitch will be paired with for this story more confident and sassy than she will be from here for a while longer. 
> 
> The female is of/above the age of consent in Britain, that is all that will be said for this chapter. Still can't think of an age, but part of the conflict in the story will be age. As well as choice (or a lack thereof), freedom, opinions, voice, strength... etc. 
> 
> The story will alternate between dark, humorous but dark and (possibly) eventually a little light... 
> 
> This makes it hard to write, because I don't plan on going into explicit descriptions of the darker themes just yet, nor do I want to make it light-hearted to the point where the darkness isn't acknowledged. Please do tell me if there is something that renders this chapter seem jarring, cringe-worthy or too dark/light.


	3. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It appears Pitch's future partner is in no less shock than the boogeyman himself.

There was complete silence for what seemed like an eternity, surrounding the pair. Pitch could already see the fear written over her face, even if he could not sense it the way he used to be able to. Neither of them spoke, at first, until nausea began to gnaw at him and he felt the need to hurl. He couldn't do this. Not now, not ever. 

"I need to- I have to leave." 

It sounded more hesitant than it had meant to come out, but at the time, he didn't over think it, he just walked out of the room, vanishing behind a corner. 

* * *

Amelia stood frozen, unblinking, right until the man - _creature_\- in front of her spoke. Of all the spirits she had been expecting, this one was no one of them. She vaguely recalled that she had once or twice heard a name, or perhaps just a title that would have fit the individual that once stood in front of her. Yet, just like he had vanished from the scene in moments, so did the memory of knowing _something _about this person she was supposedly engaged to. 

Biting her lip when he disappeared, she couldn't help but feel as though she might have failed. 'I am sorry, Grace...' Closing her eyes she sighed, before feeling a sharp sting in her arm, as though someone had just pricked her with a needle. 

Gasping and pulling up the sleeve of the dress she had been wearing since morning, she spotted something faint on her arm. Squinting, she could see a very faint mark begin to form. It stung some more and she could not make it out just yet. Turning her head to face the man that had taken them all here - the bald man they had all been referring to as Manny, a man that had so alluringly promised security and a chance to prove their worth - she could not help but feel confused and almost betrayed. 

Of course, she had been made aware that some of them would be chosen to fight, some to heal and others to... well, do this. Get married, have children, look after the aforementioned children. Become essentially a house wife. Not that she had any higher goals, despite all her efforts. Coming from an average family and having always felt like you could not do any better than average often did that to people. 

Though it would have been _nice _ to have at least been told which one of those she was chosen for before she was dragged into this room. Perhaps it would have given her the chance to back down and reevaluate her options. Perhaps it would have stopped her from, for whatever reason she might have had, to chose the most ghastly and least sociable person in the room. Someone who seemed to feel _disgusted _by her from the moment he saw her. A complete prick, as Grace would have probably said. She could not though; she was not here. 

"If you are compatible someone in the room, you should have found that upon meeting the person you are now engaged with, you have received a mark," Manfred informed then, conveniently late. 

'Oh, you mean like this one?!' she felt desperate retort, though she could not manage more than a glare in his direction. Deep inside, she was seething, her lungs starting to feel empty of air as the anger began suffocating her. Tears of frustration threatened to pool at her eyelids, feeling the pain and hearing her new fiance's words play on repeat inside her mind. The clear shock. The hastiness to escape her. What had she done that so wrong that he judged her like this? It was not like he was the only one placed in this situation! 

To make things worse, the man in front of her had her blindly walk into this. She could barely recall even making her way to the tall, dark haired male she had been supposedly seen as compatible with. In fact, she could not remember _seeing _him until she snapped out of whatever daze she had been in, only for him to walk off soon afterwards. 

"Those who have not been matched to anyone will be transferred to another facility, where they will be given the opportunity to choose between what else they want to be a part of," he finished, before he gestured for them to walk out of the room. The remained humans left, followed by the person who had set this all up, leaving those that were paired up standing around, feeling uncomfortable and surprised, as if they had just woken up to a whole new reality that they had not seen coming. 

'Well, at least I'm not the only one,' Amelia assured herself, her eyes locking with some of the other humans and the spirits. For a moment longer than she had intended, her gaze fell on a white haired boy that looked much closer to her age, slim but fit looking, with gorgeous blue eyes. 

She felt tempted to complain about how lucky the muscular, brown haired college student standing beside the youngest male was. If perhaps for shallow reasons, it seemed to her that he would have been a much better choice. 

"So, I'm guessing that is the engagements over?" it was that same boy that asked, in a surprisingly casual - but thankfully relaxing voice that was deep and warm to contrast with his cold appearance. His friendly nature was only emphasised by the bright twinkle in his eyes as he briefly looked over to Amelia. 

Nobody responded of course, though some nodded slowly. 

Amelia, too confused and frustrated by all of this to speak, found herself staring at the other supernatural entities in the room. She could have sworn she had seen Santa Claus standing in the room, but could not fathom why he had tattoos on his arms. That was not the Santa Claus that she was used to from childhood tales and cheesy Christmas movies. Not so far from him, standing by a female and a male human, floated a woman covered in brilliant feathers, looking to her partners, curious. The set of dragonfly-like wings made her think this woman was some sort of fairy. Drifting further right, her gaze followed a tall, anthropomorphic rabbit, who stood behind a female that seemed like he was of an Asian ethnicity - or at least had some recent ancestors from that area of the world. 

'Wait... there's no way... You have got to be kidding me.' 

It started to sink in who she was surrounded by. The myths, the legends she had lost all faith in over the years. By the time she was thirteen, she refused to believe in miracles as a whole. Now she stood in the same room as the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Which would mean... that the white haired boy was Jack Frost. 

Not so far from them was also a small, golden male with messy hair, that looked like he was completely covered in sand. There would probably be no bonus points for guessing that the supernatural was most likely Sandman. 

Amelia could have claimed this was impossible. But so was the idea that somehow she could have walked up to a random guy she had not even seen, causing her to have a random mark on her arm without them even touching and to be engaged to the very same person... to be married within a month. A few weeks ago, it would have been considered ridiculous for someone to be telling her that a short, bald guy would walk into her house at night, offering her a way to make her older sister proud and help protect her family from the rising crime rates within the town she lived in. More so that he would then take her all the way to the North Pole using little more than a snow globe. 

She shook her head.

'I should have stayed at home...' 

"You okay?" the voice of Jack Frost snapped her out of her thoughts and she found herself in an almost empty room, asides from him and herself. "The others have gone to find the rooms they will be staying in over the next month," he informed her after a while, possibly having seen her confusion. 

Well, at least someone cared to explain something to her. Nodding slowly, she forced a small smile on her face. 

"Alright..." 

The white haired male chuckled. "You know, you are probably the only one who is taking things as well as I expected someone who isn't supernatural to take them," he commented and she could not tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. "I mean, it's pretty normal for a person to be shocked by things that they were not expecting. Scared by the unknown. Confused by the wacky and weird. Even I'm a little shaken up, and I was told that this was happening." 

He patted her on the shoulder gently, before turning around and walking off.

"By the way," he said, turning around once more, "the guest rooms are all on the corridor that is on the right hand side. The left side leads to the workshop. Might want to avoid it, unless you want to startle the yetis and the elves..." 

Smirking slightly, he disappeared behind the hallway, leaving Amelia standing there once more. 

Shocked. Confused. Not knowing what the hell was going on. 

'Wait... did he say yetis?!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you are re-reading this, I changed Jack's partner to a male and Aster's to a female.
> 
> Amelia is a bit of a hypocrite, not being very thrilled by Pitch being her partner either, but can you blame her? 
> 
> She genuinely did not believe in any of the entities before she had met them. I would consider this as her being an anomaly. However, being now engaged to a spirit, she can see all the spirits. 
> 
> Once she chose Pitch, despite not seeing him - but Cupid's magic does not require to see or feel her partner - the same magic that engaged them has enabled her to see the rest of the magical world for what it really was. 
> 
> The man in the moon is not someone I would consider a true spirit. He does have his own magic, but he is not bound to belief, or a centre. He never really died, nor got possessed, etc. Sure, he does have the ability to live much, much longer than most beings that aren't undead, but this just seemed to make the most sense.


	4. Refusal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia is hardly pleased with what is expected of her, and that makes getting used to her surroundings that much more challenging. 
> 
> Pitch meanwhile deals with his own opinion of this arrangement, only to be walked in on Jack.

Curiosity had almost driven Amelia into exploring the workshop instead, but nervousness drove her away just as easily. Walking through the corridors lining The Pole, she found her eyes steadily grow larger as she took in the aesthetics of the place. Ebony wood rose halfway up the walls, intricate patterns carved into it, to match the painted patterns on the red and gold walls. The railing at the other side of the corridor that acted as the only barrier between the ground floor and the floor she now stood on, several metres above that one, were also of that same wood, with the same carvings. Under her feet was a red carpet that was cut off just at the staircase that led to the ground floor, but stretched past that point too, to the corridor that Jack had mentioned to her. 

Entering that part of the massive structure, she found that there were - if the number of doors lining each side of that corridor - more than enough rooms for all the spirits and humans involved in the same arrangement as she was. As she began trying to open various doors, she noted some seemed to give off an energy that pulled her away from the room, as if someone did not want her to be inside. Did that mean those rooms had already been taken up and locked by some magical means? 

And if that was the case, how on earth was it even possible? The girl shook her head and moved on, trying door after door, determined not to wind up sleeping in the corridor, but panicking with each locked door. She was starting to feel more and more sceptical about find a room, when finally a door seemed to even welcome her, tugging at her curiosity instead forcing her away. Twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open, she entered the room and glanced around. 

It seemed cosy - colour coded accordingly to the rest of the house, with a large ebony closet at one side of the room, two small bedside drawers beside a double bed that looked more than spacious enough and was topped with soft looking pillows and warm, fluffy duvets. At the opposite side of the room to the bed was a large window that looked over the barren outside world. Part of her wondered if it were even necessary, with how dark it was here half of the year and how little there was to see, but also she had expected there to be a ventilation system in place instead. If it were somewhere inside the room, then it was incredibly well hidden. 

On one of the bedside drawers was a lamp and by it sat an envelope with a card on it. Scrawled across the card in cursive writing were two short phrases, one on the top half of it, the other on the bottom. 

_Will my guests in, wooden friend._

_Will my guests out, wooden friend._

It did not take a genius to eventually figure out, but North did not seem to think so, for at the back of that card was an explanation: _the first is to unlock your room to yourself and others. The second will lock your door to yourself and others. It lines are different for every guest room in this building. _

Tucking the card back beside the lamp, the female then grabbed the envelope, deciding to risk opening it at her own peril. Taking out the letter it contained, she hesitantly began reading through it. Judging by the shift in handwriting, she was willing to bet this was probably the writing of the person who had dragged her into this mess in the first place. Manfred Lunanoff. 

_Dear Miss/Mr,_

_If you are reading this letter, then it can be assumed that you have been successfully paired to one of my spirits. If that is the case, congratulations. I also must apologise for not providing sufficient warning about what you were about to partake in, but it had to be kept from your knowledge, as your willingness could have affected the magic that was put in place to help you locate your future husband or wife. _

_From here on, your position will not be a simple one, and for that I too apologise. Within a month - at the latest - you will have gone through all the necessary training for your own marriage ceremony and you will have gotten to (hopefully) learn to put faith in the spirit with which you will be sharing your life and family with. This bond is unfortunately permanent, and once married, you may not divorce. However, you may live separately within limitations, if you so choose to. _

_The ceremony is not that of the humans - hence why it is to be practised - and even afterwards, it is expected of you to eventually consummate your marriage. You will find that there will be side-effects to your marriage, including that fact that you will not age once you consummate that marriage. This is to give you as much time as possible to procreate - the main focus of these arrangements. The spirit numbers are dwindling and it is the spirits who are best capable of protecting Earth from the rising crime rates and the threats that are caused by some of our less respected brethren. Whilst it is unfortunate that it causes such an inconvenience to both spirits and humans that this is the only way to balance out the population, it might give humans and spirits a better understanding for each other in the process. _

_There may be some illness that will need to be dealt with after that process, but rest assured it will only be temporary. _

_I urge you not to worry, dear human. Cupid's spell was crafted to find your most ideal and compatible match amongst spirits, and if it were not for the fact that we have researched all individuals that had agreed to help us, your group might not have been brought to the Pole. This is a chance for safety, security and possibly even a strong relationship, that you might not have gotten had you remained on Earth which is now likely riddled with suffering._

_May you find fortune, happiness and a sense of purpose in your marriage, _

_Tsar Manfred Lunanoff X - The Man in the Moon._

It was not an easy read - the entire letter. The worst of it, however, was the two end paragraphs, against which she protested. "That manipulative shit..." she muttered under her breath as she had reread those words for a third time. 

The very idea that she could find "happiness" and "fortune" in a forced and fake marriage such as hers would turn out to be, was laughable. Ridiculous. Ironic. Even sickening to think that Manfred thought his words reassuring considering what had transpired just moments ago and the fact that she had gotten forced into this. She clearly would have no choice _but _to marry and it would only be her luck if this was not the last twist to this vile arrangement. 

If he wanted children so much, then perhaps he ought to have checked whether or not she would even bother participating in the act of creating them. She shuddered at the very idea of sharing a bed with a complete stranger. Inhuman. Unnatural. Someone who acted and looked absolutely horrid. 

"I urge you not to worry?!" she tossed the letter away from herself, but it landed barely a few centimetres from her, falling at the speed of a feather in the wind. Her attempt to put distance between herself and those words had failed. 

Tears of frustration welling up, she fell back on her bed, spreading out her arms and legs, and looking up at the ceiling, letting those tears fall. What else was there to do? What else could she do? In her position? 

She had no chance against supernatural entities. Who knew what they were capable of. What with their sharp teeth, furry and feathered bodies, alien looks... it would be no surprise if they had powers - abilities like superheroes or supervillains in comic books had, or villains from animated movies. There was no winning against such things. 

"Oh, god... why me?" 

* * *

Shaking as he looked up from the sink, to see his paler reflection in the square mirror hanging opposite, he placed his hands on the edge of the sink to steady himself. He could still taste the bitter taste of bile on his tongue, in his throat. 

And every time he thought it was over, after he'd assured himself that this was really just a nightmare from which he would wake up, he would remember the look in her big, green-blue eyes and the sickness would come back. He couldn't do it. Marry some person who was barely more than a child in her own world, let alone by the standards of spirits. If Jack Frost, by far one of the youngest spirits on Earth, never mind in this group of paired spirits, could make her appear like a baby with his own age, then how much worse would it be for him, a spirit that had existed for billions of years, to be paired with the human girl?

The worst of it was probably her choice of attire, though. With a skirt, a button up, white shirt, knee high white socks, and a cardigan, she looked like some British schoolgirl, though she clearly had an American accent of sorts. Part of him was willing to believe that Manfred had done this on purpose, knowing who she would end up with and persuading her to dress accordingly. He wouldn't put it past the conniving, controlling bastard. 

Oh, he so badly wanted to punch the shorter man in the face, pissed off as he was. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly an option, and so he just grasped the sink more firmly, as if it could easy off his frustration, before another bout of sickness hit. 

If anyone asked though, it was because of the nightmares, if perhaps in truth, none of their kicks could cause such a vile reaction. 

"Hey, what you doing here - Oh, damn..." 

He heard a familiar set of footsteps and Frost's irritating voice in the hallway, before wiping his mouth with his hand - and shooting a glare in the boy's direction. As he did so, he switched on the tap again, washing the sick from his hands and the sink bowl. 

"You're looking pretty shit," Frost observed. 

"Five points to Gryffindor," Pitch hissed out sarcastically, wanting nothing more than for the brat to disappear. "Don't you have a fiancé to swoon over?" 

Jack shrugged, leaning against the entrance to the bathroom. "Yeah, I do. But then again, so do you," he pointed out with a slight smirk. "Though, I'm not sure if it's a good idea for you to be around her right now. The smell of vomit doesn't tend to be attractive to many women." 

The boogeyman scrunched up his nose in disgust. "She's hardly a woman." 

"So... that's why you're avoiding her...?" Jack finally concluded. Oh, look, Frosty the Snowman was brighter than he appeared. "Because if the only reason is because you think she looks like a kid and that's not your sort of thing - which, you know, is very honourable of you, but also dickish, because you think she looks like a kid - then you really should start handling things better. Your partner definitely didn't act this dramatically and she's stuck with you just like you are with her. She has to deal with a walking, talking, edgy as fuck fossil. Not like it's any easier for her." 

"She's younger than my daughter!" 

That was when the awkward silence spread around the room. Jack cleared his throat a few seconds later. "Well... that's... Wait, you have a daughter?" 

It was as though he had never heard his master speak of Pitch having a daughter, not so long ago. 

"You could have just told that to Manny, maybe he would have-"

"He would have nothing, Frost. The excuse for me being paired up with a human in the first place is because he believes that myself having a daughter demonstrates my ability to produce offspring... but then again, that was literally a lifetime ago." Pitch closed his eyes, sighing. "Wouldn't be the first time..." he muttered under his breath after a while, whilst Jack was still trying to figure things out. "But if you must know, her name was Emily Jane Pitchner. You might know her better as Mother Nature." 

Jack just stood there, gawking. 

"Close your mouth, Frost. Unless you want to catch flies," he remarked. "And besides, we are hardly relatives any more. Perhaps we were once relatives by blood, name and affection, but now none of those are present. She looks nothing like me, is not called by her birth name and would rather see me rot in hell than walk the Earth. 

And can you blame her? The father she had is now a useless, purposeless little shadow, fallen from a great and well respected hero that was supposedly loved by all. He had stooped so long to commit crime to find his place in the world, to defend his position and to find family and failed to remember the ones he really had been related to.

Everything about me disgusts her.

Not that it matters. I no longer want or need a family. "

His tone changed throughout his words, first angry, then almost mournful and then disgusted and hateful once more, back to his constantly bitter voice. Pitch could see the pity in Jack's eyes and sneered at the boy. "Whatever pity you have, save it for someone who cares, Frost."

Then, he walked out of the bathroom, the nausea finally replaced with anger. Anger and a bitter, fiery hatred for the Lunanoff heir, as he went to find the prison cell that he would be staying in. 

'Darkness, why me...?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Jack's partner to a male and Aster's to a female, if you had not noticed. 
> 
> Also, if you have a better one-worded title for this chapter, feel free to suggest it. Revulsion was another option, but I'm not sure...
> 
> And yeah, Manny will probably remain a dick throughout this story. I just prefer that version of him, since it makes sense considering how little he did to help Jack in the three hundred years that he had been around prior to Pitch's uprising. To him, it seems, spirits are just tools, objects to use as he wishes or needs. So it is fitting to portray him that way here.
> 
> So... there is a lot to Mother Nature and Pitch's relationship that will be discussed later. Oh, and... she is no longer biologically related to Pitch because her new form would have to possess different genes in the genotype to affect her phenotype, hence why she looks much less like what her father looks like. Also, in my head, Pitch died back when he'd opened the prison of fearlings. He was reborn as a whole other person. Their relation was a lifetime ago. There is more to be revealed about that, and maybe I'll introduce Mother Nature eventually.


	5. Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's ponderings lead him to spending some "quality" time with his future husband and Pitch and MiM have a heated conversation with regards to Pitch's choice. It winds up being rather one-sided though.

As much as Jack couldn't complain about his partner - having had to look the guy over several times before he realised that, yup, those muscles were definitely real - it was not as though he supported the choice of having a pretty high school girl paired with the total creep that was Pitch Black. Honestly, it was the man's job to terrify the living hell out of people. Besides, the green and blue eyed girl had looked so lost and nervous...

How had it ended up that way? 

Unfortunately, he had little time to dwell on it, since bonding time had now officially begun. Until dinner would be prepared (mostly because of the mortals and their need to eat solid food), he had plenty of time to get chummy with his soon-to-be husband. That, however, left Amelia to the mercy of a complete bastard. 

But having walked in on Pitch conflicted about his situations had shone a differently coloured light on it. Jack wasn't so sure anymore if it was because of Pitch that the girl would likely be unhappy for a good while longer, or because she was stuck in a position that she could not get away from. 

The frost spirit himself was still wondering when exactly he had agreed to this arrangement. Now sitting on his dear future husband's bed - having sneaked in through the open window (and having no idea why he had opened it in the first place) - there was still much confusion to be had. Heck, he didn't even know the name of the man he would be spending the rest of his life with! Hot or not, there was no way Jack planned on sharing a bed with a total stranger. 

"So... I didn't catch your name," he exclaimed, startling the darker skinned male. 

Narrowing his amber-brown eyes at him, the college student huffed. "How on Earth did you get into my room? I just locked this place!" 

Placing his arms in front of himself defensively, Jack stood up on the bed. "Chill... calm down. I'm just trying to get a conversation going," he tried to assure him, only resulting in the other male growing more sceptical. "You telling me that's not allowed?" 

"Not if it involves breaking and entering, no," was the response he got, followed by a scoff.

Great. He, the spirit of fun officially got stuck with a rule-obeying sceptic, who clearly didn't appreciate Jack's attempts. 

"Come on- you had your window open! That's pretty much calling for visitors," he insisted, leaning against the wall and choosing to continue this conversation whether the other guy liked it or not. Or not, happened to be correct on this occasion. 

"Look - it's bad enough some random dude just dragged me to the North Pole without telling me shit and then engaging me to some random-ass weirdo, with white hair and apparently a thing for freezing things," this was followed by a quick hand gesture towards the frost covered window, making Jack wince in acknowledgement, "but it's even worse that I can't remember anything and my future husband happens to be a total dick who likes to cross peoples' lines, and sneak through peoples' windows."

Alright... so the kid had a point. 

"Well, the door was locked," Jack offered up lamely. 

"Maybe that was because I _didn't _want visitors," came the deadpan.

The spirit rolled his eyes. "I know that," he muttered, before raising his voice, "though I also know nothing about you, the person I am supposed to marry in a month's time." 

"Maybe if you gave me a little personal space, I would give you my life story _later." _

"And would you have really? If I didn't sneak into your room, would you have actually been willing to talk to me at some point later today, or even some time this week?" 

When the man on the opposite side of the room didn't answer, Jack was left assuming that, no, he would not have. "There, you basically proved my point," he insisted, before sitting down on the bed, leaving his legs hanging off the side of it. 

Eventually, the human turned to face him, before his gaze fell to the floor. "What's up with you wearing no shoes...?" he squinted, observing Jack's feet. 

"You like what you see?" 

"No, I think you should keep your dirty feet off my bed."

Jack only laughed at that, resulting in a kick in the foot. "Ow, what was that for?!" 

"Spreading dirt all over my room. Honestly, you need to start wearing shoes." 

Already they were off to a brilliant start, and if that was how they interacted when they were engaged, Jack had to wonder how they would get on with each other after years of marriage. 

* * *

Meanwhile, Pitch was left with little else but cursing his bad luck inside the one guest room that let him anywhere near it. It wasn't like he could have a conversation with anyone - Onyx and Eclipse were both currently unavailable, mostly thanks to Sanderson - nor could he occupy his time with a game, or a book, unless he wanted to risk walking into one of the Guardians on his way to North's library collection, which promised to be miserable anyway. 

Why they had chosen him to take part in this was still beyond him, and how North agreed to have him stay here was even harder to explain. Frowning, he looked out of the window and wondered what would possess anyone to assume that this would be a good idea. Now that the nausea was finally gone, there were still the voices egging him on to try and confront Manfred about it, but another part of him hesitated, unable to say what would happen should he refuse. 

A knock on the door forced him up on his feet and as he let the person in, he narrowed his eyes at the man who stepped inside. 

"Good day, old friend," Pitch struggled to keep the malice out of his voice as he spoke.

"It really is wonderful, isn't it? And to think you might have never had a chance to have a family again, Kozmotis..." A well aimed jab managed to pierce his outermost lair, causing the taller male to grit his teeth. 

"I am well past caring about such trivial things," he insisted. "Now, why are you really here?" Pacing around the room, he kept a close eye on the bald man, cautious. 

The other man chuckled. "I know that isn't true," he purred out. "But, if you really think the girl is so disposable, I can always see how she can deal with Eris and your acquaintances on her own..." His voice lowered just the slightest bit. It was clear Manny knew what he was doing, even as he looked Pitch straight in the eye, daring him to let the girl suffer. She was after all a human. If the short man claimed that he was willing to kill her to prove a point, then he would do it. 

It was not like he hadn't killed people before, directly or indirectly. 

Pitch tensed, not about to back down just yet, even if the idea of anyone encountering the spirit of Evil unsettled him. 

"You could always play mother instead - there are some male spirits left..."

Shuddering at the Tsar's insinuations, he hissed at him. "Considering the fact that I _am _a male myself, I cannot see how that is possible." Besides, there was absolutely no way he would let the Lunanoff brat go that far. 

A cruel laugh found its way out of Manny. "Yes, I am aware of your biological sex, dear friend," he assured him. "But I am also aware of the desperate lengths you would go to in order to keep out of the way of your enemies... and in turn to only make yourself that much more of a target. I have no doubt you could turn into the perfect companion for say, North, or Sandy, with a little encouragement." 

"You wouldn't."

Of course, deep down he was aware that the man was willing to threaten him into so much too. 

"Or if you are neither thrilled about North, nor Sandy, you do have a debt to repay to the Pooka race." Ignoring Pitch's protests, Manny talked on. Now it was his turn to walk circles around the male, as he, unnerved by the ideas that the shorter man proposed, was driven slowly towards the nearest corner, where there was no escaping. 

"Then again, perhaps if I simply returned you back to Sar, Eris, Isidore... and your wonderful friends, maybe it would solve the whole spirit genocide issue... what with them having their toy back..." 

Pitch was up against the wall now, and though there were shadows, his abilities failed him. A small voice repeated the word "toy" into his ear in a malicious tone, and he could feel a pair of claws wrapping around his neck. 

"...although I always preferred the thought of having a little company myself. I suppose I take after father in that sense, wouldn't you agree...?"

Most of the words were muffled, and inaudible as the boogeyman slowly slipped out of consciousness, into the blackness, only to come to, seeing Manny standing right in front of him, a hand on one of his own. 

"Don't worry. You're at the North Pole. No one can hurt you here..." his "friend" spoke in a sweet voice to match the soft expression on his face. "Not without my permission."

Taking a step back, he turned back around to walk off, adding, "and the same counts for your fiancée too, Kozi. Amelia, was her name, I think." 

Once the intruder was out of sight, and the door had closed behind him, Pitch found himself glaring at the other side of the room. To have his past dragged up like that left the memories seared into his mind, bold and clear, turning his own mind into a battlefield. Knives lying around, bombshells and explosions, blood stains on rough terrain and screams, so many screams. But it was not all world wars, or civil wars he fought. Not all wars were thought with guns and grenades, not all defences were build up of bricks and sand sacks. 

Even now there were two wars being waged. One between spirits, humans and yet more spirits and the other, was more personal. Even more to do with power and control than the one that left more dead and decaying bodies. 

Closing his eyes, he willed the image away, only to see another one form. 

_"Please... save me... please, I'm scared. _

_No- please don't do this! Don't hurt me!" _

He couldn't seem to not see that face, no matter how much he tried. _'Her fate might very well be in your hands. Do you really want to be responsible for what happens to her at Eris' hands? Are you really so incapable now that you cannot even defend a single human being?'_

Sinking down onto the red carpet, he sighed. 

It was too late to save himself and so many others. Too late to bring back that perfect hero that _always_ managed to save the day. The much beloved, charming, pathetically loyal shadow of a soldier that always seemed to cling on to whatever was offered to him. Kozmotis was gone. Pitch neither wanted, nor needed to, nor could bring back his former self. That was in a past more years ago than there were species of animals on Earth's surface. 

But the girl was still here. If he could prevent her from coming to harm at the Man in the Moon's hands, then it would prove to the bastard that he couldn't control everything. His meddling, threatening words would come to nothing and finally, after all the boogeyman had gone through, he could get back at his old nemesis. 

Standing up once more, he knew he had to fetch that girl. 

There would be much talking to do before they were to... marry. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the word as he walked out of the room, heading towards that of his human. 

Amelia. 

Well, at least there was something the entitled fool was useful for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's another chapter. 
> 
> And yes, vilifying Manny further had to be done, since this is from Pitch's and not Jack's point of view. Jack only knows him as the moon, an inanimate object somehow capable of some very unhelpfully vague guidance. He remains oblivious to what the man is capable of, or what he is really like behind all that moonshine and magic. Not Pitch though. 
> 
> Also, do you people want more interaction between Jack and his new partner? 
> 
> If you have better ideas for the title, feel free to comment them.


	6. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts are powerful, even when left unsaid. 
> 
> Some thoughts, are better, giving good ambitions, others damage and destroy.

When the female had finally sat up, having spent a good few hours by herself, hoping to vent a little, she glanced around, looking up at the clock that was hanging from the wall opposite. She was shocked to realise that it was rather late, but it began to make sense as her stomach growled faintly, announcing itself and its emptiness. Standing up, she sighed, hoping to find the kitchen easily enough as she walked out of the room, locking it behind her. At least the passwords hadn't been all that challenging to remember. If that were all she had to get used to, then she would have had no problems staying here. 

Things did not go as well as planned. Halfway through the corridor, she couldn't decide which direction to go first and managed to crash into the tall and lanky man from earlier, also known as her future husband. 

"Sorry about that-" she began apologising, as she looked up, before recognising his pale grey and somewhat _disfigured _looking face. It just didn't look quite right and that unsettled her. Of course, given the fact that he was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny, perhaps she ought not to have expected him to look approachable. Still, they were supposed to be compatible. Crooked teeth, cheekbones that were too sharp and cheeks too hollow, no eyebrows and an inhuman eye-colour? 

Her standards weren't _that _high... but she at least hoped her first relationship would be with someone that at least _appeared _human. 

Standing there for a good few seconds, lacking the ability to speak, she was finally beaten to it by the male standing opposite. "Perfectly fine," he uttered out in a gruff voice, before stepping around her. He looked like he was about to simply walk off, when he turned around. "Are... you looking for the kitchen...?" he asked unexpectedly, causing her to wince. 

And here she'd thought all those things about him. 

'Dammit, Amelia, you should consider yourself lucky that he can't hear your thoughts...' she thought, and could have sworn that the male was about to open his mouth to say something. Instead, he closed it again as she nodded slowly, gesturing for her to follow him as he turned away again and led her to the kitchen. 

The silence was unbearable, making her wonder - especially since he was, after all, supernatural in nature - if perhaps he had in fact red her thoughts and therefore knew of her opinion of him. That didn't sit well with her at all. 

Thankfully, he had managed to get her to the kitchen before things got too awkward, letting her walk through the kitchen door first. As the smell of freshly baked cookies, and various other foods that she couldn't quite identify hit her senses, the guilt slowly evaporated and she glanced around the kitchen. Too busy seeking out food, she completely forgot about the person who had led her hear and never did see him walk back out of the room. 

* * *

Pitch could not help but feel a swell of indignation and pain when he looked down at the girl only to be all but attacked by her own thoughts. It surprised him to hear them even without attempting to look into her mind. Generally, the walls around his own mind prevented that from happening. But now that he knew her every thought so long as she was right next to him... 

He wanted nothing more than to get away from her company. So he had led her out of there, not taking much time at all and once she had found the room she was looking for, he turned away and walked out. Whether or not she regretted her own ideas about him, he didn't need to be reminded of her shallow thoughts each and every time he was in a room with her. Instead, he needed to figure out how to strengthen his mental barrier to prevent that from happening ever again. 

Clearly his annoyance had been pretty obvious, for when Jack passed him, he took a moment to stop and question his mood. "So, how are you handling this now?" 

"Thanks to you? Much worse than five seconds ago," he huffed and brushed past him. 

Reaching his room, he slammed the door behind him, not caring about coming off as childish in front of absolutely no one, before giving the door a good kick. You could push away other peoples' words all you wanted to and they'd find a way to dig under your skin and deep into your flesh, nipping at your nerves all the same. 

'Inhuman.' 

More like perfectly fit for his own line of work. 

_"No one would ever love a monster. No one could ever love a monster. I'm the only one who's ever cared. Without me, you have no one." _

Black sand gathered in his hands and spread inside the cracks of the wooden door behind him as he leaned against it. He didn't need anyone to care, or to see him as anything else. But he wasn't about to surrender to the idea of being stuck with one of the Lunanoffs instead. As shallow as she was, she would have to do. It might have pissed him off...

But breathing in and out slowly, he convinced himself that he would continue with this anyway. 

Then the sand dropped, falling on the carpet. 

With that, he walked over to the window, opening it and leaving the Northern wind breeze past him. The cold might have gotten to him lately, but he needed a little of it just to calm his mind. He literally needed to cool down right now. 

* * *

'Who shoved a stick up his arse?' Jack pondered as he walked on. Granted, the dark spirit had never been a terribly sociable or pleasant fellow, but the boy himself had been nothing but friendly and this was the last response he had expected. 

He shook his head and headed into the kitchen, grabbing one of the cookie's from North's jar. 

He had only just gotten out of the room of his reluctant partner, having been shooed away from there after a couple accidentally inappropriate jokes. It wasn't like he could help himself - it had just come to mind without him considering the fact that they weren't all that appropriate - so he wasn't sure why it was such a big deal. Still, when someone decided to smack your arm with a pillow, you knew they were being serious.

So, here he was, leaning against the kitchen counter and munching at a cookie, when he noticed a familiar female with light brown hair and green-blue eyes. Finishing the biscuit, he shot the girl a smile. 

"The food good?" he asked, getting her attention as she almost dropped her plate. 

A chuckle was stifled when he saw her turn red in embarrassment. "I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you thought that - the yetis are great at cooking." 

"This... was done by the yetis?" she inquired. 

He'd almost forgotten that humans weren't used to this. He wasn't really used to this either. Still, he nodded. "Yes," Jack said, "if North had cooked that meal, he would have probably eaten half the pot." 

Seeing her smile made him remember how great it was to be the spirit of fun, but it also made him realise that spreading fun was something he should have done to Darius just as much as he did to kids. Just like he was committed to making children laugh, now that he was supposedly engaged to the man, he ought to make him laugh rather than sigh in annoyance. 

He must have been frowning, since Amelia seemed to question his behaviour. "Is something wrong?" 

The guy laughed it off and shook his head. "No. Just remembered there was something I needed to do," he assured her, before taking a handful of cookies and walking out of the kitchen. "Enjoy the food." 

Then he returned to the room from which he had come out of, knocking at the door once he had finished eating. Standing by, he waited, rewarded by the door opening and a mixture of shock and annoyance crossing the sun-kissed features of his fiancé. "You want to grab something to eat?" It came out casually, thankfully. 

Darius was about to close the door in his face, when Jack placed his hand between the door and the door frame. "Come on... you know what to," he added teasingly, before pulling his hand away. "Besides, you probably haven't eaten for hours..." 

Chances were, he was right, before the male opened the door wide and stepped outside. 

"Alright," Darius gave in. "But if you try anything funny..."

"No funny business, I promise." 

Not believing him, the darker haired male shook shot him a sceptical look, before walking into the corridor. Jack caught up with him, before leading him back to the kitchen. By that time, it seemed as though his newest friend had left, but this was probably for the best. 

* * *

Toothiana had been the next person to come across Amelia. 

The poor human almost had a heart attack by the look of her when she walked into the feathered lady. "Are you okay?" Tooth said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry about that..."

"No, it's fine..." 

Recognising the girl as the one who was supposed to marry Pitch, a little bit of pity formed inside of her. What an unfortunate, young soul. "You know, if you ever need to talk to someone," she offered, "I can always be there to listen." 

"Why? I mean, you don't even know me." 

That was a good point, but at the same time, she had a duty to protect those who couldn't always protect themselves. Which included her now that she was partnered with a dangerous spirit. Tooth still could not believe that Manny thought him a good addition to their team, but it wasn't like she could protest. Whatever Manfred did was done for a reason. 

"Yes, but, it's not like there isn't something in this deal for me," the fairy smiled. "I could use some female company. Other than my partner of course. She's not exactly... cheerful about the arrangement between us, so I don't think she's willing to talk to me as of right now." 

Not exactly a lie. Both of the humans engaged to her had decided to walk off somewhere and were currently wandering around the North Pole, uninterested in speaking with the person that they believed was most responsible for their situation. 

How many lies had Manny told these humans? She probably wouldn't know, or ever figure it out for herself. 

"I'm not sure..."

"Well, if you ever decided you want to talk, I'm on the second room on the left of the right hand guest room corridor..." Toothiana responded, with another soft smile. 

That was when they parted ways and the Guardians decided to grab a meal whilst the human supposedly walked off back to her room. Perhaps tomorrow she could give the younger female a tour around the pole? Maybe even the other guests. 


	7. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a few answers are given, but they only raise more questions. 
> 
> As for Pitch, the only answer is to do the exact opposite of what his enemy wants. That enemy currently being the Guardians.

The rest of that night had been largely uneventful. 

However, the next day's early morning drill which had set off the alarms in North's home, sending the humans and the spirits both out into the cold, shivering and cussing in protest, was certainly not that. 

"Fuck, it's bloody freezing out here!" Amelia could hear the giant rabbit complain as he gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering in the frigid weather. 

In spite of the lack of wind or snow, the temperatures were still far below zero and the clothes she had managed to locate in the guest rooms were not as thick and warm as she had hoped. Clearly, though, it failed to bother the Russian man, or Jack, who was too busy teasing the unimpressed male by his side to notice anyone else. 

Manny had seemingly vanished and not planned on returning, as she never saw him during the drill. 

As misfortune would have it though, the miserable, grey spirit of Fear stood around, feet away from the others. His presence made things a lot more awkward, especially considering everything that had happened during the day that they had known each other for. 

Folding her arms around her and trying to warm her woolly red sweater up to help keep herself warm, Amelia looked to the ice and snow, wondering why they even had this drill. There was no smoke and she had no idea why else the alarm would ring. Her questions were answered though, as North decided to finally speak. 

"As you know, we are one of the many defences Earth has against threats of evil," he exclaimed, "which also means we are at risk of being attacked by this evil. We need to be prepared to evacuate at all times. Humans are not made to fight spirits..." 

It was clear by the look of confusion, that no one expected this place to be a target. After all, if they were supposed to live here even after their coupling, would it not be a better idea to bring them somewhere safe? It seemed like a reckless, ridiculous idea to conceive and raise children in a battlefield. Then again... all of this seemed reckless and ridiculous. Huffing to herself sceptically, she turned away from the speaker, glancing over at Pitch. When he felt his gaze on her, he glowered back at her, before looking elsewhere, ignoring both North and Amelia. 

If the male had read her mind then, was he still willing to read her mind? She shuddered at the idea. 'He'd better stay away.' 

Having drifted off from the speech for a while, she decided to focus on the rest of it, at least so that she wouldn't come off as rude, if nothing else. 

"...but despite this, the North Pole is also the safest place to keep you. This is were the magic is. This is where our weapons are. Here we can protect you, where we can keep you close." 

Well, that... didn't seem like the worst explanation ever. 

From there, Bunny decided to take over, explaining that the humans would meet up here each time the alarms rang. Only, during real attacks, they would line up here alone. Every spirit would be notified in their own way - which was not a piece of information that was further explained to Amelia and her group - and would hang back and fight to give the humans a chance to escape, largely because whilst humans stood little chance against the supernatural opposition, the Guardians and Pitch could handle them just fine. Once the humans regrouped, they would then proceed to walk on through the Arctic. 

During this part of the explanation, she was forced to follow the rabbit as he hopped over the ice - looking none too pleased to be walking through this frigid land either - but could see that most spirits were actually held back by North. It baffled her, of course, but chances were there was a reason for this. 

Led to a dent in the ground, behind a few snowy hills, she saw Aster stomp on the ground, before the icy earth under them parted, revealing a staircase. It winded downwards like a coiled snake climbing down a tree, with the trunk of this tree seemingly made of solid, cylindrical ice. It descended into darkness - well, almost darkness - that was only partially lit up by lanterns hanging off the ceiling. Light reflected from the icy walls, showing off indentations and even inscriptions in the ice that made her eyes stray for a moment, before she focused on the path in front of them, almost slipping up on the staircase, having not concentrated on where she was going. 

They walked on, with Aster leading them through a maze of underground tunnels, past underground streams and clear waterfalls, as well as droplets peacefully plopping against the ice. 

If she weren't so lost, perhaps she would have been at awe. Despite this, though, the place effectively blocked out all thought to her current situation and the worries that previously took up most of her mind. Another shiver coursed through her and her gaze snapped back to Aster, wondering when they would head back upstairs and into the warm rooms of the Pole, when instead he led them to what looked like a dead end. 

Unsurprisingly though, the ice parted at his touch, revealing a room, filled with beds, with shelves and clothes. All sorts of supplies lined the place from top to bottom. 

"There's a shaft behind those beds," he gestured to the bunk beds that stood right up against the walls. "If you ever need a quick escape, that one is the most secretive escape. Should anyone who these caverns are charmed to warn against enter, there should be an alarm that goes off - you'll know when it does. Leave anything that you don't need behind. Should we be visiting, the this place is charmed for that too, but you'll probably know even without the charm. 

Do not tell strangers about this place. Do not stay behind and fight the enemies if they attack. And most importantly of all: dress warm. This is not a permanent hide out. Always keep some clothing with you that will keep in the heat. Water, you might be able to get out of the ice. Heat... not so much." 

As if to emphasise this, he visibly shivered once more, before turning around and leading them outside.

"So, what do we do if they catch us...?" finally someone asked. 

The brown skinned male that had been paired with Jack seemed to be the only one daring to ask anything. The first response he received though was a grimace, which gave them all a quick indication of the sort of situation they would find themselves in _should _they get captured by the opponents. 

"They won't," Aster insisted in a resolute tone of voice. 

"In the scenario that I get proven wrong though," the Easter spirit added, as he navigated the maze once more, "you will be given a means to communicate with us quickly and efficiently, to ensure that we get to you as soon as possible. Hopefully once your marriage ceremony is over, you will be able to alert the spirit you are paired with even without this means, though." That last line was tense, as if the reminder of a wedding wasn't exactly pleasant to him either. 

Amelia winced at that. Perhaps. she had been selfish to think about things as though she were the only one suffering. 

"But... what if they don't come fast enough?" a soft voice asked and the attention switched to a chocolate brown eyed girl with an Asian-American accent. There was something about that tone that made Amelia tempted to reach out and embrace her, but instead she awkwardly kept her hands at her side. It had been years since she had hugged anyone, even relatives, so though she thought about reassuring her, she also knew that there was little comfort she could provide. 

"We will, sheila, we will," the person whom she was most compatible with - according to some fancy spell by an unknown spirit, that was - tried to pacify her. 

That made something simmer deep down inside Amelia, forcing a frown to appear on her face. 'How do they know that? How can they assume they can help us? They've never helped us before! They weren't even there-!' 

She forced her thoughts elsewhere when they became too much for her, closing her eyes briefly and steadying her breath that had subconsciously grown ragged, before opening her eyes. 

'Focus on the present,' she repeated for herself, before looking around, said present coming into view as she once again sighted the other female. She didn't exactly looked convinced, but there was a certain amount of self-control she managed to maintain, which prevented her from asking any more questions, or disagreeing with him out loud. How she'd managed to stay as outwardly collected, Amelia had no idea. 

She'd also noticed that the two human males in their group had gone up ahead, already ascending the staircase. In fact, she was the one most behind and had to quickly catch up to the rest. Without slipping and falling flat on her face, preferably. 

Cautiously following, she noted that Aster had decided to slow down and was now by her side. 

"Anything wrong, sheila?" he inquired, looking concerned. 

Shaking her head, she denied everything and thankfully the furry guy didn't poke or prod. "Do you call everyone Sheila?" 

He chuckled a little. "Only the young ladies, like yourself and Tamara," he responded. 

Tamara was likely the name of the girl he had been paired with. "Right..." 

"So, what's your real name?" 

Great. He wanted to initiate a conversation. Whilst they were on ice, nonetheless. You know, slippery, hazardous, cold and hard ice? This was not going to end well. Still...

"Amelia," she responded curtly, before making her way up the staircase. 

"Nice name." 

Yes, nice. So was the discomforting atmosphere around them as he tried to stretch the conversation on. Absolutely lovely. Now if she could stop herself from - whoops, almost slipped there - falling, that would be even better. 

"My real name is E. Aster Bunnymund. Well, Edmund Aster Bunnumund the second. Named after my great-grandfather, an inventor," he added with a little bit of pride that made Amelia give up on trying not to slip up and instead proceed to listen to what he had to say about himself. It did seem more interesting after all to know about someone with a relative who was an inventor, than about what her feet were currently doing. 

"Did... your great-grandfather also have ears and a tail?" she asked, before biting her lip. 

Now there was a stupid question. 

She was surprised though when he actually nodded. "Pookas - my species - tend to have - well, tended to have - rabbit-like features," he explained, seeming neither embarrassed, nor offended, nor annoyed by her question.

Her brow furrowed at that response. There was so much to unpack there. 

_There's more than just one Pookas? _

_Or is he the only Pooka?_

_They can become spirits too?_

_What did Pookas eat, drink, do for fun? How did they live? _

But mostly...

"If you are another species, then... what makes your boss - at least I think he's your boss, or something; he acts like it - think that pairing you with a human will produce viable offspring?" she blurted out, surprised that she managed to say all that without stammering. 

He shrugged, by which time they were back at the surface of the pole. 

"Magic is complicated and there are ways around our forms, but... I have no idea. Even I don't know how it would necessarily work, but it might be the best chance I have. Might be the only chance I have," he shook his head, before looking around, changing topic as he looked over the group, checking to see that everyone was there. 

That left her standing for a few moments as he distanced himself from her, going to lead the group back to North's residence, leaving her feeling guilty. 

Perhaps she had pushed that too far and he really was the last of his species. 'And that is an awful thought...' 

\---

Pitch meanwhile, had not been having an any better time with the rest of the Guardians. Taking an unnecessary tour through the entirety of the building - one that he never needed, as he had managed to sneak through the whole complex on numerous occasions without the oblivious owner of this place noticing that he was even here (and that was in spite of the enchantments he had placed upon this supposedly impenetrable fortress of Wonder) - he found himself groaning inwardly at every little detail he was walked through. 

"And this is the library-" also known as the first place that Pitch had managed to infiltrate which had belonged to North - "where we keep magical and non-magical books, as well as some magical artefacts you might find useful. We will go through all that another day..."

Jack seemed excited, from what the dark spirit could tell, though even he looked like he was about to keel over in boredom as they passed by the books. 

"...charms which are very dangerous..."

Pitch had almost failed to even realised he had somehow not heard most of that sentence, his focus now on one of the shelves, scanning through the psychology books that had clearly been left unread since before the day North had even gotten them. 

"...if used incorrectly..."

And felt the need to berate the idiot for leaving a copy of books filled with Emily Dickinson's poems in the broken and battered state that it was, presumably having been given to the pesky little elves to handle as they pleased. 

"...it has to be noted that - Pitch, are you even listening?!" 

Startled, the male turned around, looking like a deer in headlights when he was met with North's surprisingly intimidating expression. Beside him, the golden brat snickered maliciously, eyes shining with amusement. 'Smarmy little shit.' His eyes then trailed over to Jack, who was leaning against one of the shelves - almost tipping over a book in the process, which Pitch reached out for, grabbing it and glowering at the winter spirit - smirking. 

"This is important!" 

Tooth had decided to be the pacifier in the situation, placing a hand on the Cossack's shoulder, warning him against snapping. 

"I am aware," Pitch drawled out eventually, once he himself had calmed down. Placing the book he had caught just in time back where it belonged (although, if it were up to him "where it belonged" would have been inside his own lair, where it wouldn't risk being torn to shreds, even with his nightmares running around the place), his focus then fell back to the ever so generous host. "Do continue, North." 

Clearly, he had managed to get under North's skin, for he let out a rather loud huff before he turned back to walking them through the Pole. 

Figuring though, that this might be a very long and trying day with their guide being North, the spirit of Fear did manage to take a book called "The Nature of Spirits" off one of the shelves before they walked out of the library, moving to the next room. Whenever North wasn't watching and whenever he could afford to lose focus on his surroundings, he would take a peek into the book, careful not to be in any of the Guardians' lines of sight. 

At least something here could provide some actual information, other than the vague blabber provided by North. Not that he would ever tell that to the other man's face. Or, at least not right now. Not when his ability to teleport was nonexistent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, despite the fact that Jack claims he has never been able to get into Santa's workshop, Pitch clearly has the skill set to do it, since he has managed it even in the movie. 
> 
> "The Nature of Spirits" is not a real book - not to my knowledge anyway - but hey, it might become one, if I ever get around to writing the head-canon I have in mind for spirits. However, Emily Dickinson is a real poet and though I couldn't figure out what book to place in North's workshop out of the different copies that contain her poetry (which I would recommend reading - specifically 'A Narrow Fellow in the Grass' and 'Hope is a Thing with Feathers'), I chose to add her in, because she is a well-regarded poet that I think Pitch might have liked if he were the sort of person to read and if we chose to avoid turning him into a caricature. (As in, a cartoonish, 1-dimensional person who is only defined by fear, the colour black and a fairly bland taste in clothing.) 
> 
> It's more abstract and uses more thought and analysis than I could actually be capable of using. I, instead, had the chance to use secondary sources that helped explain to me the cleverness of her poetry revolving around nature, humans, the interaction of humans and nature, as well as emotions and tricky concepts. Having had decades and centuries to work out the meaning of her work for himself, Pitch wouldn't have had the same problem. 
> 
> Jack is not a reader. That is something I hold onto strongly when it comes to my slightly altered portrayal of him. Don't get me wrong, he loves tales and can be creative, but he doesn't read or write and is poor at both. So he also doesn't care for books and finds taking the piss out of people who do read as a way to make up for his inability to do so. Poor boy. Hopefully, he'll have the chance to improve and change his view of literature as this story progresses. 
> 
> Even if Tamara sounds neither American, nor Asian, sue me, but I'm using it. It sounds nice, almost sweet and earthly and it would have sounded even nicer if stupid me hadn't chosen to also use the name for a nasty piece of work years earlier... She's more timid, and comes from somewhere in Asia - feel free to suggest the country down below - having moved to America sometime during her childhood. 
> 
> North doesn't feel cold, so he probably never thought his guests would feel that much colder than him even if this is the North Pole.


	8. Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choosing to seek some privacy in the library, Amelia realises that she can't escape everyone, not with Pitch holding any interest in books.

Neither cold, nor exhaustion sat well with Amity. 

Shivering, she covered herself in yet another layer of clothing to banish the cold away, as North did not seem to see the sense in putting some central heating into this place either. Sighing softly once the chill slowly dissipated, she headed out of the room. There were no books, no games, no puzzles, no movies. There was no TV, phone, computer, or laptop in this room. The room seemed mostly empty, to be filled up at a later date by things of the temporary owner's choosing. She had taken nothing and so there was nothing there to turn this place into a home. 

Then again, she had only been here for a day. 

By now, it was evening, and the twenty-four hour mark had passed. Her stomach rumbled faintly, reminding her that she should probably make a stop in the kitchen on the way to the library. Aster had given them all the tour of North Pole later that day, so she had a vague idea where she was going and the library was conveniently located behind the kitchen, if perhaps on the floor above. 

So, heading down the stairs, she passed by one of the humans that had been paired with Toothiana - not really paying even enough attention to note whether it was her male or female partner - and walked through the kitchen door just a few minutes later. Jack's words about the yetis making up the kitchen staff rang true as she spotted the furred humanoid creatures milling about, carrying around pots, pans and various ingredients. The warm, alluring scents of the kitchen led her towards a large bowl of soup that had been set aside on the kitchen counter. At the sound of someone garbling something out incoherently, she turned to face a light grey yeti who was looking at her with a curious expression. He must have taken her own facial expression as "can I have some of that?" as he took the bowl from behind her and then poured some of the contents into a smaller bowl, which he handed to her with a spoon, and words that sounded a little like "enjoy." 

Nodding and letting out a small "thank you," she ducked her head slightly and, taking the bowl, headed out of the kitchen. 

'If that wasn't weird...' she thought, shaking her head and trying to shake off the awkwardness of that interaction. Twenty four hours and she had still not gotten used to the idea of being surrounded by yetis. 

From there on, she continued to the library. This time it went without walking into Jack - for which she was partly glad about, as she had managed to lose some of her ability to think after her previous encounter with Phil - though as she walked through the double door that had kept the library away from prying eyes and settled down by one of the tables to enjoy her food first, she realised that her day would not be complete without coming across at least a few more awkward encounters. 

Like spotting her prospective spouse with his nose in a book just a few feet away from her. 

Safe to say, if anything could have convinced her to drop her spoon on the table with the loudest clatter imaginable, it was this. What the hell was she supposed to do now? 

* * *

Pitch had not been intending to go to the library at first. 

It would have been far more risk-free to head over to his room after grabbing "The Nature of Spirits" from the shelves, considering a library was often as much of a social hub as it was a place of study. 

Alas, his attempts to get a little peace and quiet had been squandered by the sudden reappearance of Frost in his room. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" the male shot a golden-silver glower in the direction of the frost sprite which was now casually leaning against the wall of his room, clearly unconcerned by the fact that he had once more sneaked into someone else's room without having so much politeness as to first knock. 

Manners had clearly evaded the boy.

Jack shot him a pearly white grin. "C'mon... don't feel like talking to your favourite spirit of Fun?" he teased. Given just how much his teeth sparkled, it was no wonder that the rainbow harpy adored the brat so much. 

"And the _only _spirit of Fun?" Pitch deadpanned. "No, I think I'll pass on that one, thank you, Frost." 

"Don't be salty like that, Pitch. You know you love me," Jack persisted, pulling himself away from the wall, before walking over to the taller spirit. "And now that I'm in the same room as you -"

"That being _my _room -"

"-we can finally talk like two men would-"

"-Only you're not really a man, now, are you?" 

At this, Jack narrowed his eyes at the raven haired man, which made the fact that Pitch had just gotten under his skin that much more obvious. "Look, my point is that if you don't talk to anyone - be it me, or you significant other, or even the resident dentist - you're just going to end up feeling shit. Isn't family what you wanted? Friendship?" 

The white haired boy then trailed his gaze over Pitch, noting there was something in his hands. "Because if you still want that, a book is not what's gonna get you it, you old nerd." 

"The book will get me everything that I _need,_" he argued. 

Shaking his head, the kid attempted to steal the text from him, only to be pushed away by force. Wheezing a little as he had air knocked out of him, he huffed and straightened up. "Come on - at least try to be sociable." 

Then Jack got a scoff in response. "I did. And look where that got me."

"Then try again!" 

Pitch found himself being backed up into a corner again, with Jack regaining any confidence that might have been knocked out of him along with the oxygen out of his lungs. Sneering, he narrowed his eyes at the boy, not about to have a repeat of the last time this happened as he pushed him away and walked out of the room. 

"Where is the Pitch I knew? The Pitch I fought. The one that didn't give up," Jack called after his former enemy whilst the shady spirit stalked off into the corridors. Stepping back, he sighed. 

Damn, he was far too young to be sorting out other people's problems. Still, it was better than being bored and having nothing to do. Well, he guess he could go outside, freeze a few things, cause a snow day somewhere in the world, but that didn't feel enough anymore. Turning away, he used the window once more to get out of this room, deciding for a evening flight around the North Pole. 

* * *

Finally inside the library, Pitch returned to reading the "Nature of Spirits," turning to the chapter titled reproduction. Granted, it was not as though he didn't know about the birds and the bees - it would probably be ridiculous to not know after billions of years of existence - but with spirits he was certain it functioned a little differently. Asides from one or two magical families that he had met before, he hadn't seen all that many spirit children.

Besides, perhaps he could persuade the man who had trapped him in this union, to let him go after...

No, that was unlikely. Still, there would hopefully be less pressure for him to be around the human after the first or perhaps second child was born. 'Or perhaps he expects us to make as many half-human, half-spirit brats as we can before we die,' a pessimistic voice popped up inside Pitch's head as he read the passage. There were only very few bits of it that he was taking in, though, what with him being constantly being distracted by his own thoughts. 

_To balance out the numbers of eternal beings that do not die of old age, and partly as a result of a spirit's improved immunity towards diseases and infections, the chances of successfully producing a child, even when the female is at her most fertile in a cycle are far slimmer than with a human coupling. With spirits, any bodily reactions tend to be a lot more voluntary, and often occur after more than the achievement of physical intimacy, but also emotional. These bodily reactions then affect how easily sperm can reach the egg during reproduction and thus make it simpler for a spirit to produce a child. _

_They can be affected by potions and spells, however, these often dangerously require the ability to alter a spirit's mind and take away their thoughts and self-control temporarily. They negate the ability for a spirit to freely consent out of their own true will and have over the history of spirit's slowly become frowned upon. As a result of their ability to force a pregnancy ..._

Pitch tore himself away from the page, turning it, as he found himself too nauseous and disgusted to continue reading that page. Really, he wanted to close the book altogether and never have to read it again after that point, but there was something he needed to do. 

Or perhaps he was dismissing the obvious idea, a way out of the marriage without the consent of some controlling puppeteer. When he'd realised that, he flipped through the book, seeking out pages on marriage rituals, but came up empty. Well, right until he slowed down in his search a little, coming across something a few pages after the reproductive chapter. 

_Many of the following rituals have been altered from enslavement rituals used by beings of chaos, destruction, control and evil..._

'Brilliant. We might be entering a pact that is sealed by a spell that the current ruler of Hell might have once used on those he wished to suffer most,' Pitch scowled, reading that line over and over. There was a list below of all the different types of marriage ceremonies amongst spirits, before his eyes trailed over to another one, which had not in fact been meant for the same sort of purposes, but also had not been invented by the same species. 

It did seem most familiar, though. 

_The Elvaera Draconique, a race known for their magic, power, and peacefulness had devised their own magical marriage ceremonies over the year that were at the time supposed to ensure successful, loving marriages that would last a life time. Records have shown (1), that these elves did in fact live in happy, lasting unions with each other. _

_This might be largely because the magic has a certain amount of permanence about it. There has never been a recorded example of someone choosing to get out of the union, and thus it cannot be confirmed how one can exit this agreement, or what the effects of cuttings oneself off from their partner are. The tradition of this marriage ceremony lasted all throughout the golden ages and has been adopted by a few civilisations afterwards, but is rare and less likely to be used, as it is a little more complicated and is often only for those that are tightly bound together prior to the marriage. _

_Unlike with divorces, there are records of marriages that did not successfully get completed (2), due to a wide range of reasons, including a late discovery of incompatibility amongst husband and wife. _

_Often, compatibility is only fully decided on the day of the wedding, after practices and courting have already taken place, though with the help of non-manipulative magic, compatibility can be discovered earlier. The soulmate spell, amorous water and the astral charm can help increase the chances of the marriage ceremony itself being successful by showing if a person is or isn't compatible even before an engagement._

Given its success and the lack of forceful spells mentioned thus far into the text, it seemed as though this could be the wedding ceremony Manny would go for, if he had his own spirit's sanity in mind. There was more to this, including how the ceremony would be carried out, the magics preformed and even something about soulmate marks that Pitch had only scanned over, but as he was about to continue looking over the information, he heard a noise, and looked up from his book. 

When his eyes settled on the source of the racket, he tensed, unsure of what to say or do. Not an easy thing to do, when you are in the same room as the person you are affianced with. Especially if the engagement was helped by magic and a manipulative tsar. 

"I thought most people eat in the kitchen," Pitch finally uttered out, having cleared his throat. 

He could see the shame burning her cheeks a dark shade of red, which served to amuse him. "I... I thought I would be here alone," the girl at the table across from him muttered out. Thankfully for him, he had good hearing, for the female was a terrible speaker. 

"Well, now that you know you aren't in fact alone, I am sure you will have no problem leaving me alone whilst you go back to eat where people are supposed to eat?" He narrowed his eyes at her. It ought to have convinced her to stand up and walk out of the room, since she clearly had no desire to spend time with him. Instead, she simply shook her head. "No...?" 

Huffing, the human pushed the bowl of food aside and picked up the spoon, before shaking her head again. "I can be here just as much as you can." It came out rather unconvincing thanks to the hesitance in her voice, but she had said it all the same. 

"This is not a kitchen. This is a library," Pitch continued insisting. 

"I-I know that. I-I can see the books," her voice grew smaller as she spoke, but clearly she was determined to stay. 

Frustrated with her, he stood up, about to leave, when she spoke again.

* * *

Amelia knew that she was screwed now. There was no way he would not judge her, and in the end she had been right to be sceptical about that. Not that anyone would force her out of here against her will. 

He might have been her own partner for life, but he would not bully her into leaving a place where she felt comfortable and safe... until he came along. 

Though, as she continued to argue, she noticed his growing irritation. It should have made her feel victorious, or at least proud of her achievement and happy that she could eat alone, undisturbed, but instead, she found herself at a loss. This was the person she was stuck with and he clearly did not care to be with her. If this is what their marriage would be like too...

She frowned, watching him leave and looked him over, trying to find something, anything that could stop him from leaving. If he left now, that would be one less chance for them to figure things out between them before the day of their... wedding. She shuddered at the thought, still unable to think about kissing someone like him in front of several other people, even if - no, especially if - they were strangers. Still, it was better to kiss someone you have at least some connection to, than a complete stranger. 

"What were you reading?" she forced out of herself. It surprised her a little, when she came to the realisation that they _might _just have something in common. 

Something in his demeanour shifted slightly, and the spirit turned around to face her, golden-silver eyes looking right through her, as if they had already figured out her intentions. The male showed her the book he had been holding, before sliding it across the table at which she was sitting at. Then, he took a step back, wordlessly, his eyes trained on her as she picked up the book hesitantly. 

Non-fiction, then. "Nature of Spirits" now lay before her. A hard back, thick book that was set out just like a non-fiction book would. Nowhere near as interesting as the preferred, fictional novels, but at the same time, it might be important. 

"Feel free to read it, you might find it more useful than I do," the spirit added, taking another step back. "There should be almost everything, if not everything you need to know about spirits inside."

It was strange to see him give up that book so fast, considering the fact that he had seemed so focused on the text just moments before. Was she really that bad to be around? The thought stung, but then again, it wasn't like he was exactly a ray of sunshine himself. "Thank you," was all she could say, in an attempt to break a little bit of that ice.

And for a moment it seemed like she might have managed it, as his gaze softened and his posture relaxed. The male in front of her no longer seemed to discomfort her, or unnerve her. He appeared so much more human then, just like she was. Then his gaze hardened and he turned away from her, finally exiting the room. 

Sighing, she pulled the book towards her, and opened it, forgetting her food at that moment. If there was a page in that book that explained why some spirits were this snarky, perhaps it would be worth a read after all. 

* * *

He had rarely ever been thanked before, so he had been thrown off a little, when Amelia had used those two words. It was unexpectedly pleasant to hear, but that in itself concerned him. His opinion of her could not have shifted that quickly, could it? Simply because she suddenly grew manners didn't mean he had to change in his opinion of her.

So why did this bother him so much? 

Why had he even left the book with her? It was not as though he could not or would not get it back, of course, but he had no idea what had possessed him to hand the book over to her in the first place. 

For a while, he considered the idea of Manny manipulating him into saying and doing all that, but he remembered every bit of their exchange and deep down inside he knew that this had been voluntary. The idea though, that he might be willing to help a human like Amelia even the slightest bit, beyond sparing her from a few devious spirits was absurd. He cared little for the human race. He wasn't even sure why he had bothered answering Amelia's question. 

Nobody could convince him to answer a question unless he wanted to. Though, as his left arm started to heat up and later the rest of his body did too, he remembered that it had been his own plan to get closer to her, after all. 

He paused in his steps, thinking that maybe he should go back there and take the chance. It would, after all, spare him a lot of trouble. Them. It would save them a lot of trouble and discomfort around each other. A month was a short time to get used to someone. Taking all the opportunity a person can, would be useful. 

Another part of him thought that perhaps it wouldn't be such a grand idea - that she might see him as a confusing nutter with the inability to make decisions that he could follow through, and that she might refuse to share a room with him after their conversation had gone _so _well- and that part had won in the end. So instead, he wandered around the Pole for the rest of that evening, no longer having something to do. Thankfully, Frost was otherwise occupied, for he didn't appear in the corridor, or inside of his room to annoy him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured the two could bond over books, but for one reason or another, Pitch refused to accept the possibility.


End file.
